


Just Hold Close

by DGCatAniSiri



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-19
Updated: 2017-09-19
Packaged: 2018-12-31 11:24:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12131406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DGCatAniSiri/pseuds/DGCatAniSiri
Summary: Grey Wardens Alistair and Rykien Cousland hear Corypheus's Calling and question if their search for a cure is possible.





	Just Hold Close

The impossible nightmare had come yet again.

Rykien had been avoiding sleep as much as he could, knowing what awaited him when he did. The dreams hadn’t been this bad since the Blight. Even that undersold matters – the screams of the archdemon had been different, more distant. He’d even occasionally almost made out words from the voice of the dragon. These dreams... It was an indistinct roar, one that threatened to drag him under, like a crashing wave.

Something about it wasn’t right, he felt. Of course, asking any of the Wardens about it was impossible. The only other Warden around right now had only a few months more experience than he did. 

And, based on his thrashing in his tent, it was clear Alistair had other concerns.

Rykien threw the tent open. “Alistair! Alistair!” He was hesitant to attempt to shake Alistair awake, knowing that, for all the other man’s sweetness and goofy charm, he had still been trained to fight and kill, and, given the darkspawn’s tendencies to burst out of the ground, often go straight from sleep to combat. Aedan would rather err on the side of caution.

It took a moment, but Alistair jolted to awareness, struggling to bring his breathing back under control. He reached out, a hand wrapping around one of Rykien’s. Now that Alistair was awake enough, Rykien moved close, allowing his lover to pull close. 

The nightmares had been constant, with both of them, that they’d developed a routine. Neither of them were particularly comfortable with that fact, though they at least had each other to comfort them after they had these nightmares.

“Maker...” Alistair gasped, burying his face in the crook of Rykien’s neck. “Are they getting worse for you?” he asked softly.

“I’ve been trying to avoid... sleeping,” Rykien answered, letting out a hollow chuckle. He pressed a series of gentle kisses to the side of Alistair’s head. “You’re still sure?”

“That this isn’t the Calling?” Alistair nodded. “I’m sure. We’re supposed to have many more years. These dreams... They’re nothing like what Duncan spoke of.” The certainty in Alistair’s voice silenced Rykien’s next question of if Duncan had hidden his dreams from him. Though it was still a possibility... Rykien felt there was something wrong as well.

He sighed, pulling back slightly from Alistair, now that the nightmare was subsiding. “Should we try to contact the Wardens? See if there’s... anything they might be able to offer?”

Alistair shook his head. “Not the way some of the others were talking the last time we spoke with any. It seemed like Commander Clarel is getting ideas for some kind of plan that... even recruits are unsure about.” There was a note of hesitation in his voice. Alistair had always had a deep affection for the Wardens. This was his family. And yet... He didn’t feel he could trust them, turn to them in this time of need.

Rykien sighed, slumping. “Having these dreams... It makes me more sure about finding some way to do something about the Calling, but... If the Wardens are gearing up to do something stupid... I almost think we should go back and argue against... whatever Clarel might be doing.” Rykien might not officially have any authority over Clarel, but the Grey Warden who’d slain an archdemon and lived carried a great deal of weight among the Wardens all the same. 

“I know what you mean,” Alistair nodded. “Letting the Wardens fall...” He let out a sigh, and then turned to Rykien with a haunted look. “Do you really think we can do this? Cure the Calling, rid the Wardens of this burden, this curse... If in the last thousand years, the Wardens haven’t managed to find out how to cure it, do you really think it’s even possible?”

That was the question, wasn’t it. True, Rykien had set about this quest as a direct result of the information that Morrigan had offered him, before disappearing through the eluvian, Morrigan had no reason to lie to him, but that didn’t mean she was right. Her gift had been a tome of information she’d gathered of magics of a time long forgotten, among them, tales of a cure to the taint. Rykien had even heard of a Warden who’d been cured who was still alive, though the Wardens had seemed very reluctant to discuss them at all, and he’d been left without even a name for this particular Warden. 

For a long moment, Rykien was silent. “I don’t know. I... recognize that this could so easily be just a fool’s errand, an attempt to find something that may not exist, but...” He looked to Alistair, with a sad smile, reaching out and caressing the side of his face. “I want more time with you. More than... roughly twenty years. I... I would rather die an old man, in some cottage somewhere, surrounded by our friends, our family, and a pack of mabari puppies, not... not journeying into the Deep Roads to slaughter as many darkspawn as I can.” He tried to swallow down a lump in his throat, not being entirely successful. “Our lives have had so much violence in them, love. I don’t want them to end that way.”

Returning his smile, also choking back tears, Alistair took his hand. “I know, love. Maker, how I want that for us, too.” They’d become Wardens during the Blight (Alistair before, but still close enough to that he might have well have had his Joining then), which had provided them a different experience among the Wardens who’d Joined at some other time. The Blight’s scars still lingered on them both. Wanting to leave the fighting behind was not unbelievable. “I suppose it’s just... hard to think that if we manage to succeed... This sword that’s been hanging over our heads for so long will be gone. I’m not sure I’ve even accepted the idea.”

It hadn’t been easy for Rykien to accept either, and he was championing this cause. But as he’d read what Morrigan had left him years ago, he’d become convinced that somewhere, in the vast expanse that was Thedas, there was a way for Wardens to avoid the Calling.

And, with these lingering dreams, he felt there was no time better to do this.

There was a pause as they both thought about these dreams that had continued to haunt them for the last several weeks. “This can’t be the Calling,” Rykien said.

After a moment, Alistair nodded. “It’s far too soon. Duncan told me that we’d have at least thirty years. This is... barely ten. The Blight can affect Wardens, make the taint spread faster, but... Not this fast. We can’t be hearing the Calling.” There was a note of doubt in his voice, however – despite everything, he still had that sliver of doubt.

Not that Rykien didn’t as well. There was just enough of a question to make them both wonder, despite any attempt to feign certainty. This was simply a case where there was no certainty to be had. Perhaps if they rejoined the Wardens, but with the concerns they had about the order as a whole... They just couldn’t be sure how they would approach the two of them setting about on their own mission, regardless of the wishes of the order as a whole. Even Rykien’s friends from Amaranthine, those still with the Wardens, who were likely to help, weren’t an option – Rykien didn’t want to put them in the position of having to choose between friendship and duty.

No, this was his mission. His and Alistair’s. The archdemon couldn’t separate them, neither would the Calling.

“Even if this actually is the Calling... I would be with no one else,” Rykien said. 

Alistair gave him an affectionate smile, pulling close to Rykien. “Nor would I. If it is... our time... I’m glad to spend what I have left with you.” They kissed, letting the rest of the world fall away. 

They would fight for the chance to be together, to remain together, for as long as they lived. Nothing else would be allowed to be considered.


End file.
